Crimson
by J. E. Talveran
Summary: Overwhelmed with the responsibilities of being Alpha, Andy heads north to Boston to try and figures things out with Nate. Then there's Miranda, who's becoming this distraction that she escape. And then there's the opportunity to give up everything New York has to offer; the pack and Miranda, in exchange for the familiar comfort Nate offers. Sequel to Amberlight.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Crimson**

**Author: J.E Talveran**

**Rating: Teen**

**Disclaimer: **The Devil Wears Prada and it's encompassing characters are not mine but I am taking them out on a holiday for a bit. If the notion of femmeslash or werewolves bothers you, then Crimson might not be your cup of tea.

**Author's Note: **It's been about two years, give or take since I first published Amberlight, and the first chapter of Crimson on . It was roughly two years prior to that, that I first published Amberlight online period. Now, after a couple of cross-country moves, family emergencies, a writer's block that sucked away a good year of my life I believe I'm ready to start the next book in the series. So, concerning Crimson (updated to Mature just in case) if you dislike femmeslash, or the supernatural crossing over into your canon, or werewolves; then this is not the story for you. I thank you for clicking on it and wish you luck in finding a story that will capture your interest.

For the rest of you, and the ones who have poked me since the beginning, I wish that this story captivates you. Now, without further ado!

* * *

**Chapter One**

A woman seven feet behind her slices her palm on a shard of glass. It takes approximately five seconds for the blood to send Andy Sachs into an euphoric trance and it takes another ten seconds to shake herself down from the high. The copper clings in the air like perfume and it takes all of the lessons on control to stop Andy from rushing the wounded; that and a sturdy hand that clasps onto her shoulder.

"Just relax. Remember your breathing." Doctor James Michaels whispers in her ear. He doesn't remove his hand until Andy's counted out seven breaths and can finally look away from the spot on the wall her gaze bore into. His calm eyes hold steel within the gaze. She can smell the faint traces of aftershave and mint from an earlier mojitio. "There we go."

"It's growing worse," she says, keeping her voice low. The murmur of the crowd was around them and drowns out most of the individual conversations to white noise but that doesn't stop Andy from keeping her voice barely audible. If she spoke about it in public at a normal level of conversation, then it becomes real and she wasn't ready for that. No. Andy liked it best when the … stuff was kept in whispers and only discussed on the stonework tiles of a veranda. It was far easier to pretend it was happening to someone else that way. She turns back to studying a blown up photograph of someone with a carefree smile and a look of contentment. She hates this photo. Why is she standing before it?

James frowns. She can see it in the reflection off the glass pane. He adjusts position to the other side of her as they both catch the sight of who's heading towards them. Lily's breathless. She's exuberant and she's already seized Andy's wrist with a hand as she tugs the brunette towards the back of the room. The alcohol on her breath explains the ease that she pulls Andy through the crowd. As if the year was tucked behind glass and untouchable. They're working towards reconciliation but Andy remembers the months of shunning and it hurts. There's not even a chance to apologize to James as she's pulled away.

It wasn't her choice to come tonight; but the duty to the Pack demanded it. Brianna was picked up as an artist to know and a friend of a friend knew Lily through the gallery circuit and here everyone was, Brianna's murals on display to propel both her and Lily as the next discovery. Normally, this wasn't a big deal; except tonight was the full moon.

A night where they should all be crowded in the foyer of the mansion willed to James and awaiting the urge to fall to all fours; but New York's social elite didn't run on their schedules, not even when it would invoke Miranda Priestly's ire. So, as Alpha, Andy was here to make sure there was not an incident.

"So," Lily lingers on the s as she nudges Andy into a back room filled with crates and the smell of turpentine. It overpowers the blood and Andy feels coherent once again. "You're coming up to Boston, right?" This is the third time Lily's cornered her over the past week to try and convince Andy to join her for celebrating of Nate's promotion to executive chef. Andy just shrugs. It's simpler to answer that way because every time she speaks, Lily cuts her off with reasons why she should go and what it might mean. Their circle of friends still can't see why Andy and Nate had such a rough patch last year, and with how quiet the long-distance quasi-relationship's been, they think that maybe this might be the spark their 'favorite couple' needs.

In fact, all Andy does is make wordless noise as Lily's conversation veers from Boston to awkward apologies for the rough patch that happened between the two of them. Any other night, she'd be attentive. Really. All she wanted right now though was to stalk out onto the open floor and – woah.

She shakes her head vehemently.

"No?" Lily asks. "Andy, c'mon. It's been what, six weeks and you've canceled every other outing."

"What?" Andy blinks, then blinks again. "Oh! No. No, Lily, sorry. I just –"

She cuts off because … did she just hear her name? She cants her head and peers at Lily curiously, and Lily cants her head back. It's comical and Andy finds herself smiling at the look she's receiving.

"Andy?" Now Lily looks concerned.

"Sorry. Um, what did you say? I mean;" her grin is sheepish, "I had a little too much of the punch." It's a bold-faced lie. Andy wouldn't dare to lose even an ounce of self-control. Not tonight. Not with the entire pack restless and –

"Andrea."

Someone had said her name. Oh. Not someone. Only one person in the world says Andy's name like _that_. Andy's eyes widen and she accidentally nudges Lily into a crate as she stumbles up to her feet. She flings open the door and searches the crowd for a signature streak of ivory … there. Why is Miranda over there? She excuses herself away from Lily and crosses the gallery floor as the scene becomes clear. Lily sputters behind her but Andy's already gone.

The scene is approaches is disturbing, and deteriorating fast. There's Shannon, blond hair styled into loose curls about her face, and she's pinning some blue-haired girl with an interesting tattoo sleeve against a wall. Huh. Wait. Andy's eyes narrow and she's at Shannon's side with a speed she's still not used to. She looks across Shannon's head to meet electric blue eyes and whispers a thank you to Miranda.

Miranda sniffs and gestures for Andy to take Shannon anywhere but here. She'll deal with the bystander. It's a silent exchange but Andy learned to read Miranda's thoughts from a simple look. Andy yanks Shannon back and drags the slender woman through the gallery, past a very confused Lily, and out into the back alley. She slams the metal door behind them.

"What the hell, Shannon?"

Shannon's eyes blaze amber. She twists like a cat but Andy's grip is ironclad on her arm. When she snarls, her fangs are exposed. "I'll kill her! I'll bury my teeth into her pretty little neck and shake her like a ragdoll!" She jerks, hard, away from Andy. It only serves to send both women stumbling off the raised concrete onto the asphalt. Andy's grip is still tight over the curve of her upper arm.

Andy nods. She thinks all she's done tonight is nod, or shrug; and holds up her free hand in what she hopes is a placating gesture. "All right. All right. Just – you have to calm down, Shannon. It's the full moon—"

"I don't care." Shannon's voice is husky now, overlaid with a growl that sends a responsive shiver down Andy's spine. Power crackles in the air. Andy can practically taste Shannon's fury and it's the best meal she's ever had. She doesn't know what to do and if she's not careful, there's going to be a wolf in this alley clawing into that gallery. Make that two wolves. Miranda's not here. She's inside. Miranda's always able to center her. She has no idea where James is.

"Shannon!" Andy barks the woman's name, but she's not listening. Andy swears. She knew this had been a horrible idea. Shannon's going to expose the pack and get them all shot and … no. No. That's not how this is going to go down tonight. Andy sets her jaw firm and gives over to instinct. She was Alpha.

So she acts like it. She intercepts Shannon's next escape attempt and slams the girl into the brick wall opposite where they stood. Power rolls off the two of them. Shannon's image grows hazy. Grows feral. Andy beats her there. She doesn't know how she does it, or what _it_ is, but with her next breath she has Shannon pinned a foot above her and has her teeth a breath away from the column of the blonde's throat. Shannon's neck is angled oddly to the side. Andy can see the pulse quicken under her gaze and she can hear Shannon's heartbeat; Shannon's whimpers.

"I said: Calm. Down."

She drops the woman, who no longer smells of anger and power, and steps back. Her eyes burn and she slaps her hands over them to try and calm herself down. Shannon's fallen into a crouch, she's still whimpering. Andy's ears buzz with the sounds of New York. Andy's bloods pound with the urge to take the city on. Andy's mind struggles to keep a grip. She's burning up, she feels restricted, she can't breathe. She claws at the buttons of her shirt and the sound that escapes her throat is not human. Not entirely.

"Andy?" Lily's voice cuts through the fog and all Andy can do is whimper. Of course Lily would follow her. Shannon's not able to leave her crouch until Andy lets her and Andy can't turn around. The lawyer's safe from Changing but Andy's about to collapse from keeping hers in check. A wail catches in her throat and she can't let it loose because it's not a human cry. She doesn't want to hurt Lily. They just started to repair whatever had broke the year before.

"Move." Miranda's voice. Miranda's hand curls about her shoulder. Miranda's scent flares about her. It's not the relief she expects. It's intoxicating. It stirs up a hunger within her belly that all but dismantles her right there. She can't have Miranda there. _She_ can't be there.

"Get off me." Andy's voice is tight, it is controlled, and it does nothing to hide the fact that in a minut, she's going to be the wolf that exposes everything and ruins the pack.

"Andrea—" Miranda's voice has a hint of desperation to it.

"I. Said. Let. Go. Of. Me." Andy's voice is garbled due to fangs not meant for a human mouth. She's not shimmering, as she calls it, but she's so damned close it would take next to nothing to set her off. She wrenches her shoulder out of Miranda's hold and turns sharp on a heel to meet the editor's gaze. Electric blue meets smoldering amber and it takes the last tatters of Andy's willpower to jerk her chin towards Shannon. "Take care of her." She manages.

Then she bolts down the alley. She hears alarmed voices behind her but she doesn't care anymore. All she cares about is the song in her veins. She only cares about the full moon that blazes in the night sky even as the city lights blot out the rest of the night. She cares about nothing else but giving in to the demand pressuring her mind.

As her body is overtaken by the burning glow of the Change, she tears away the layers of clothes branded with names she no longer cares about and lurches forward. Her nails find purchase on the textured road and she scrabbles away from the alleys and into the closed construction zone. What's left of her mind remembers that she had gone over this escape route with James not two hours earlier. There was an entrance to the old tunnels right – there. She turns a hard right, her paws digging into the gravel, and bolts into the welcoming safety of the dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Crimson**

**Author: J.E Talveran**

**Rating: Teen**

**Disclaimer: **The Devil Wears Prada and it's encompassing characters are not mine but I am taking them out on a holiday for a bit. If the notion of femmeslash or werewolves bothers you, then Crimson might not be your cup of tea.

* * *

She woke up in a pile of naked bodies. More to the point, she woke up on the bottom of a pile of naked bodies and she's burning up like it's the middle of summer back in Ohio. "Geeoff." She muttered with a shove to one lean thigh. A hand fluttered against her hip and she can't help but yelp.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," Miranda's not amused. She's also not a part of the dogpile. She's separate from it. The look she gave Andy is one that instantly banishes all the warmth the dogpile had provided. It makes her feel like a failed personal assistance all over again. It stings and wounds her pride. "You are so very lucky, Andrea, that James decided to round up the others while you were dallying in the alley—"

"Dallying?" Andy knew she's failing to pin Miranda with one of her own looks.

"What would you prefer I call that shameful display?" Miranda's so much better at pinning Andy down with a look. Any look. It really didn't matter what the look was, it was predetermined that Andy would lose and Miranda would win.

"How about calming Shannon down so she doesn't go Wolf in the gallery?" Andy's voice had a tendency to squeak when she felt pressured. She could feel the tickle in the back of her throat.

"Yes, and you achieved this by … what did you call it? Go Wolf? Ah. Yes. You achieve this by going Wolf yourself. Clever, Andrea; I couldn't even see through your plan."

Andy snarled and shoved Joseph, who hasn't done anything wrong but wind up curled at her side naked when she was in the middle of an estranged long-distance relationship. She pushed herself into a sitting position and leveled a firmer glare onto Miranda. This one was weak in a human sense, but was backed by the dominion of an Alpha over their pack; no lesser wolf could maintain eye contact. Not even a wolf as unique as Miranda; and when Miranda averts gaze, Andy rubs at her own until she feels somewhat coherent.

They're all crammed into this low-ceiling room with a myriad of steam valves and pipes. It stank of grease and stagnate rainwater. Even though none of them had a scrap of clothing between them, there wasn't any furtive staring. No shame. No sneaked glances. Andy had been slim enough before all of _this_ happened, but the Change had quickly pressed and molded her body into the shape of a lean, lithe huntress. Now she understood why Miranda had always been able to have a steak for lunch every day, and as much coffee as she wished without any side-effects. It disappeared underneath the constant demands of her body.

Not that Andy was fully comfortable with being nude in the same room with Miranda. Well. Ok. She wasn't really uncomfortable either. It was just how things were now. The Change did not apply to clothing. Andy adapted.

"So, we have clothes?"

Joseph is bent over a broken section of concrete. He pulled out duffel bag after duffel bag and set them nearby. "Brianna scoped out the gallery yesterday when we couldn't get the showing pushed back."

Andy smiled her thanks to Brianna, and the girl barely kept her gaze for more than a second or two before she's right by Joseph and pulling at the backpack with her name pinned on top. Her eye had healed remarkably well but their relationship was still Brianna tucking tail and exposing throat every time Andy looked her way. It drove Andy nuts, but there's almost nothing she can do about it but try to wait it out. So Andy sighed and kept the smile plastered on while she scoots over to collect her own bag.

The room filled with the sounds of zippers and rustling fabric but it all died down when they notice that Miranda has not moved from her Indian-styled position.

"Miranda?" James probed.

"I may be a Wolf, James, but I refuse to smell like one. I am already late for a morning meeting and while that alone will put Emily into a stroke; I simply do not need to smell like a gutter rat." Miranda grabbed her phone from the duffel with her garment bags all neatly folded and waiting retrieval, and tapped out a text. Thirty seconds later, and she's shimmered down into the ivory form of her Wolf. Stunning blue eyes judge them from the corner of the room she claimed as hers for the time being before the wolf huffed, ducked her muzzle under the strap of the duffel, and padded out into the tunnels as if this was an everyday thing.

Everyone else stared at Andy until she scrambled to shove her own clothes back into her backpack. It's not as easy for Andy to just fall into the guise of a Wolf. Not when it's morning and she's in full control. And definitely not with the rest of the group staring at her. Waiting. It's the worst case of performance anxiety. Still, it comes to her. Not as easily or stylish as Miranda makes it out, but Andy feels the heat crackling at her joints and finds the world sharper, more intense. The color washed out, but was replaced with high definition low-light vision. She can't quite fit the backpack around her neck so she bent and caught her teeth around a strap. When she looked up again, the humans were gone. They're all wolves, and they all had some sort of hold on their stuff.

The pack looked drab without Miranda's snow-white fur to break up the monotony of fur colors. Brianna, Joesph, and James were like Andy herself; dark, shaggy wolves that blended well into the dark. Shannon's fur was gold, but even she admitted she felt like bronze compared to the editor of Runway.

Instinct took over once the human was subdued under the mind of the Wolf. When Andy prowled forward, the pack rushed to greet her. There was a flare of recognition; and Andy was pleased to note that she could smell herself on all of them. They approached with wide eyes and wagging tails. Brianna's hesitant nature disappeared underneath the Wolf. Andy allowed them a minute or so of reunion before she started down the tunnel after Miranda. The white wolf hadn't gone too far; just around a corner. Miranda doesn't approach her like the others, but there is a hierarchy in a pack. They are not regular wolves, where dominance could change with a challenging fight, but there is still tradition. Instinct to follow. Miranda crouched low and offered her throat and muzzle to Andy. Her body was relaxed and she stood still as Andy closed teeth around Miranda's muzzle. She gave it five seconds and then released Miranda.

All was forgiven.

Miranda never explained how Roy knew about the Pack and yet was not part of it. Three months ago, Andy had be reintroduced to the driver as a resource that was now as much hers as he was Miranda's. She had always liked Roy; he had been a friend and understandable about how life was working under Miranda when Andy had been her assistant.

The silver Mercedes Benz S-Class sedan loomed in the steam ahead of them. Only its headlights cut through to cast the pack in silhouette. Andy smelled Roy in the driver's seat and how the man could handle a pack of wolves that made Great Danes look tiny she didn't know. Even further, she still doesn't understand how the sedan takes the weight of six wolves, but she's thankful every time Roy arrived to bail them out of awkward situations.

Careful not to ruin the interior, Andy was careful when she used teeth to grasp and close the door behind her. She had been last in, and because the backseat was a pile of fur and paws, she got to ride up front. With the tinted windows, this was a decent recovery every time it was used. New York was a city absorbed with itself, or the latest gossip. A towncar with a large 'dog' in the front as if it was as important as any person wasn't new. Dozens of eccentric wealthy dog owners commanded it, even. Andy knew because she had been lead writer on a series of articles dealing with pet ownership in the city.

Roy greeted her as if this was normal and pulled out of the tunnel and onto the relatively quiet early-morning streets. It was a Saturday, and a glance at the clock announced that it just turned 5am.

Shannon's loft was the closest territory, plus it had an underground garage that Roy could pull into and park the sedan directly by the elevator that went directly to the penthouse. It needed a passcode to head up to the penthouse, and while it wasn't an express elevator normally, Andy was pleased to know the trick from Runway worked here.

As the sedan blocks them from any unwanted voyeurs one by one the wolves hop out of the car and into the elevator. As the doors closed, the pack shifted back to human. Shannon punched in her code, Andy held down the close door and floor buttons, and the elevator lurched to motion underneath them.

Andy spent the trip up wallowed in her self-deprecation. While it was difficult to become the Wolf, when she finally was the creature, things were… simple. Easy. Instinct and emotion flowed as smooth as rivers within her. She could interact with the pack around her like they were supposed to. Then came the Change back, and the doubts, the worries, the fears of the human mind burst through like a sledgehammer. Instinct was no longer right. It wasn't normal. It was bizarre. It was disturbing.

Andy's first out of the elevator. She stumbled to the floor-to-ceiling windows and pressed herself against the flimsy curtains that do little to cut down the glare of the rising sun. Her heart pounded in her throat. When Andy is the Wolf, she can follow through on what Instinct demanded without pause. When Andy is … Andy, she can't register what the Wolf wants. Some days, the confliction forced Andy to flee. Other times, like now, it boiled in her.

When she finally turned to face the rest of them, her eyes blazed and her ire is directed at Miranda. "Do you know … do you know what I almost did last night?!"

Miranda has the gall to look annoyed. "Did we not just go over this?" She shook her head and steps further into the loft. She nodded at Shannon's taste and practically tuned Andy out. To her, the subject had been closed earlier.

"How about I almost killed Lily!? My best friend, remember? The woman putting on Brianna's show?" Andy stormed through the room; stopping short of barreling into Miranda's personal space. "How about Shannon nearly killing a woman?"

"That would not have been a problem if you had done your job as Alpha –"

"I am so _sick_ of that damned word!" Andy's hand lashed out, knocked over a vase that luckily bounces off carpet and not mosaic. It rolled underneath the couch and there's no evidence to suggest it had been damaged. Regret bubbled in Andy's stomach but the anger forced it away before it could take root.

"It's what you are." Miranda's calm infuriates her.

"No. No, what I am is Andy! What Andy is supposed to be is human. Andy is supposed to be this average reporter who doesn't turn into a monster on the full moon and try to eat her best friend." She can't look at Miranda so she whirled on Shannon, who froze in her tracks. Miranda can stand up to Andy, but the rest of them can't. "What the hell happened in there?"

Shannon, unlike Miranda, managed to look remorseful. "She had made a pass at Joseph. She'd been making passes at him all night and every time wore down my willpower until I – I snapped." She stared out the window, over Andy's shoulder. She couldn't meet Andy's eyes. "I didn't pay attention to anything until you brought me out of it."

"If you were just doing your job, Andrea, we wouldn't have to worry about such slip-ups." Miranda's voice is ice down Andy's spine. Miranda's speaking the truth; any one of them can figure that out but Andy hates it being brought up. The first few months had been … trying, but Andy had thought it could work; until the Wolf started to affect all of her life, and not just the days she drove out to the estate. Now it was everywhere, within everything. Work, home, friends, all of it was being overrun by the Wolf. There were perks, great perks … but the bad didn't outweigh the good.

"Yeah?" Her eyes burn. That meant the Wolf showed through them, turning her brown to that intense amber. "Then you can have the job. I quit." She snatched up her clothing and grabbed her phone in the process. She had made sure to put that within the backpack before Joseph had hid the items.

"And-" Miranda's step forward is blocked by James. The older wolf bent down and whispered something to the editor. It caused Miranda's lips to purse and then she shook her head. With a wave of her hand, she directed the rest of the wolves away from the retreating Andy and into another room.

"I'll speak to her." James is at her side while she watched the elevator's floor indicator. "Miranda expects perfection, even from herself. She's just concerne—"

"I don't really care, James." Andy tried to glare but where Miranda drove her up the wall, James was a soothing presence. "I just need to clear my head."

"I overheard you and Lily last night. Boston, right?" James looked to where her gaze is resolutely set. "You should go. You've blown off the last few visits because of Pack duties and I think it would do you good."

Andy shifted so she could watch the doors and his profile all at once. An urge to scent the air and pick out his emotions is firmly shoved down and she focused on what was human; sight, attentiveness, hearing. "You recommended that I stuck around here a while. Bond. Do… stuff with them."

"I did."

"And now you're changing your mind?"

His smile is a quick, easy quirk of the lips. "I am."

"What's in it for you?" Her eyes narrowed as his smile only grew.

"Peace and quiet. You and Miranda have been at each other's throats and not only will this clear your head, I think it'll do good for Miranda."

"Hmph." Andy twisted around as the doors opened. She walked backward into the elevator just to keep her attention on him. "What else is there?"

James chuckled. "Talk to Roy, he'll have a suggestion for you. I've been talking about—"

"You gossip about me?!"

"Only good things, I promise." James hit the button. The doors close and he waved at her until she couldn't see him anymore. She could hear his husky chuckle though as the floor lurched to motion underneath her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Roy's suggestion came in the form of driving somewhat aimlessly through the city until Andy slumped forward in her seat and gave him an address.

The towncar pulls into traffic without so much as a hiccup in its motion and with the engine idling while they waited for a light, Roy twists to face her. "Kept your old apartment, huh?" He asks it with an amused half-smirk that brought her attention back to him and the question than hopping out onto the street.

"Yeah - uh, wait." Her brow furrowed. "You never drove me to this one. I moved after Runway."

"Miranda had the address book updated in case anything happened." He answered her and she settled back against the cool leather of the towncar.

"Why?"

Roy gave her a knowing look, but humored her question. "She kept an eye on you." He left it at that. Andy didn't know if she should be grateful or demand an answer that actually answered the question.

She focused on him instead. "Fine. Why you then? Why this?"

"Driving you home now, or are we talking about something else?" Roy's expression hasn't changed and she credits the fact that if it was anyone else, she'd probably stormed out. Her gaze narrowed and he picked up on it. "Ah. Something else."  
"Yep."

"I'm pretty sure the after-hour bit isn't exactly negotiated in your contract with Miranda..." she trailed off when his smirk turned into a grin. "It is? Really? Huh. Then... how...?"

"Miranda and Elizabeth both underestimated exactly how strong a trigger the first ex-Priestly would be. He wasn't supposed to be there, but this was before she perfected her blacklisting policy. She found out who the 'younger model' was. She managed to call me and we left. I left the gala with Miranda and about ten minutes into the drive, well; those seats weren't yet treated for the transportation of wolves."

Andy arched a brow. "You didn't freak? I freaked. Totally fainted like a southern belle."

Roy chuckled. The light turned; he twisted 'round again and they were off again. "I was in shock. I pulled over into Central Park. Opened her door. She bolted out of there. I then opened the trunk and pulled out one of her overnight bags and set it, unzipped in the back. Grabbed my hidden stash of smokes and sat on the hood to wait."

"You didn't leave?"

"I was on the clock and my wife was seven months pregnant. Breaking the contract with Miranda would have been disastrous. " He did not elaborate further, and Andy didn't push. They both knew what a blacklist from Miranda could do to a person's life in New York City.

"She ever come back?" Andy waited until the silence in the car had been sufficient enough for them to remember whatever story they held as the pinnacle of Miranda's disapproval.

"The next morning. I fell asleep, woke up to terrible sunlight and an cacophony of birds; she requested that I call ahead to clear out her first hour of the day and stop by the house." Roy shrugged. "She didn't tell me anything, and I didn't push. I'm not paid to question."

"She turned into a really big wolf, Roy. A wolf!" Andy stared at him as he waited for another red light. She's exasperated, a little amused, and frustrated that someone else reacted better than she did. "I fainted. You apparently go get the wolf a latte!"

"To be honest, I think I was more scared of what my wife would do if I lost the job than of the werewolf in the back seat." Roy's delivery is flat. It caused the two of them to catch the other's gaze then dissolve into laughter.

He missed the flicker from red to green, but the neighborhood street they were on was empty this early in the morning. He'd catch the next one and by that time, they'd both be composed. Maybe.

Andy swiped at her eyes, then tried to pin him with a glare. "So, after that you two just added in the wolf bits and moved on?"  
"I received a revised contract that night. I could be let go with the highest recommendations and a secured job for a visiting editor from London; or I could take a significant raise, better benefits, and merely have to extend my driver details for nights that would end a little more savage than others." Roy shrugged. "Miranda rewards loyalty in the end."

Andy fell quiet at that. Her mind went back to how she remembered Miranda's loyalty. Roy picked up on it, he must have, for the next few blocks were driven with that same quiet from earlier.

"Do you think I should go to Boston for a few days?"

Roy looked at her as he turned right onto a main street that had their towncar lost within seconds between taxis and delivery men and other personal transport. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Closure."

"Closure for what?" She was leery of his response.

"Whatever life you're ready to say goodbye to. You're caught, Andy." He spoke soft and slow, trying to phrase his thoughts in a way that wouldn't harm their own friendship. "This was sprung on me as well, but I don't have the conflict you do. Accepting this only improved my station. I didn't lose anything, or become someone different. You, on the other hand; have your life with Nate that is, itself, in this stranglehold of stagnation. Even without him, you want to be with your old friends and normal again, but you find them difficult to deal with. At the same time, you protect the Pack. You care for your fellow wolves, but you're not ready to take on the mantle of Alpha."

She laughed. It's a hollow, bitter sound in the car. "No offense, Roy, but what do you know about that?"

He smiled. No offense taken. "I am no longer merely Miranda's driver. I am the Pack's driver and there has been many a lonely night driving back where the passenger needs to confess. I am no priest, but I listen. It's a savage, beautiful life that you've been forced into. I think you love it and resent it."

She shrugged. Her attention is on the drive towards her place. "Did she ever offer you... this?" She gestured vaguely through the air.

He nodded. "She did."

"Why didn't you take it?"

It's Roy's turn to shrug. "Wasn't for me. I was happy to help, to be the man on the outside to make sure everyone was safe, but the pack life is not my life." He left it at that. She doesn't push. He pulled up in front of her building. "Take the week for Boston. The full moon's waning and you won't need to run. See if Normal is what you need."

"I can't just leave them..." Andy's knuckles are white with her grip of the handle.

"You can, for a week." He watched her climb out and stand on the curb. Her arms are folded about herself like she was caught in a snowstorm. He offered her the same smile he gave his daughter when they first dropped her off at summer camp. "Trust me, they'll manage without you."

"What if it's forever?" Her voice went to a whisper. She leaned in, desperate for validation for the thoughts swirling through her mind.

Roy doesn't judge. "Then the Pack will adapt and you will be happy."

She closed the door on that. She stayed at the curbside until the town car is once again lost to the endless traffic snarl that wove through the city. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, then pulled her phone out of her pocket.  
"Lily? Hey. It's Andy..."


End file.
